The Florist and the Tattoo Artist
by LillyKeywright7
Summary: Molly Hooper is a florist right next door to them mysterious Sherlock Holmes and his tattoo parlor. Sherlolly au
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: Hello! This is a Sherlolly au. I have no promises for updates, but I have a few chapters written advance. This is an au prompt I got from tumblr, so no credit for me. If I owned Sherlock, Sherlolly would be canon already. Thanks! Reviews are appreciated ;)**

"Welcome to Hooper's Flowers and Cafe, how may I help you?" Molly waited as her customer gave her the long winded story of his wife of not twenty years and how he was planning to send her twenty roses throughout her work day, each one with a love note attached. He asked if he gave her the notes and the order if they could put it together and deliver them throughout the day. A hopeless romantic, Molly actually liked hearing the stories. "Of course we can do that. It will be a little more, that would fall under this category." she tapped the flier listing their different services and the prices.

"Okay! That sounds good. Our anniversary is a week from today. Am I too late?"

"Not at all. As long as the notes can get here within a few days, this is more than manageable. This is very romantic, I am sure she will love it," Molly replied with a smile.

"Thank you. I actually already have them." He handed a stack of notes all written in neat handwriting, on different pieces of decorative paper. "And this is the order that they go in."

Molly smiled. "And I just need for you to fill out this delivery form down here." She took one from the stack and handed it to him with a pen. "Press fairly hard because you're making two copies."

The transaction went fine, she smiled as he left. It was a slow business. Most people bought flowers from the grocery store. She had started selling other things, adding to what they offered. Chocolates, cards, anything to get them to come by. Lately, they started even selling coffee and a bit of food. This attracted people. Still, the only reason why she was able to pay rent was that she only employed a few college students to work part time and help out. Other than that, she was alone.

This, of course, let her use a lot of her time staring at the other half of the building. It was originally a slightly larger store, now being rented to two small businesses. "Redbeard's Tattoos" and "Hooper's Flowers and Cafe." The owner of the other business was a tall man with unruly black hair, the most beautiful eyes, and sharp cheekbones. From what she knew, he lived with an elderly landlady on the other side of town. He didn't employ anyone. He had a friend who was often by, sometimes with who she suspected was his wife. Today was one of those days where he looked especially perfect. She wondered what a conversation between them would be like.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sherlock finished with a flourish. "All done." He took a moment to admire his work. A dragon on this man's forearm. There was a meaning behind it. The man had tried to tell him, but honestly, Sherlock didn't care. He didn't want to hear the sob story, the inspiring tale, a meaning, anything. Besides, it was fun to deduce it while he was giving it. His favorites, however, was when the drunk people showed up telling him to surprise them. They were always shocked the next day when they called him thanking him for the tattoo that captured their essence perfectly. He would always lie and say that they chose it that night, just didn't remember. He wouldn't be seen as someone who cared.

"He stole a glance at Molly Hooper. She was talking on the phone, grinning about something, sipping a coffee. She was beautiful. He would like to meet her one day.

"Sherlock!" A voice called out. He turned around to see his friend walk in with Mary."Hello John, Mary," he paused, "It took you long enough."

"Oh come on. We're five minutes late. You're never on time," John replied, punching Sherlock's arm in the way male friends do.

"Mary grew bored sitting there. She liked Sherlock a lot, and they were going to go out to dinner, but she hated the tattoo parlor. There was something about it. It was a wreck, a little bit eccentric. She had always looked across to the florist's, thinking that sitting there with a coffee would be a million times better.

"I'm going to go over and get a coffee. You boys take your time, there's no rush for dinner. It's not like we even have a reservation." Skipping listening to their reply, Mary walked the few feet over. She walked in to see the woman who worked there packing up shop.

"Hello!" She greeted, waving cheerfully.

"I am sorry, I didn't look at your hours," Mary started backing out.

"No, stay, please."

Mary walked back in. It smelled wonderful in here, floral, but somehow not overpowering. She looked at the laminated half sheet of paper listing the menu. It had just a few drinks, two sandwiches, and two dessert options. She surveyed the woman, probably Hooper. She was a petite woman with brown hair. She was wearing bright blue pants with a button down polka dotted purple shirt. Over it was a colorful apron reading "Hooper's Flowers and Cafe." Her hair was up in Heidi braids. Overall, she was bright and cheerful, wiping down the counter.

"Can I just get a coffee?" She finally asked.

"Of course," Molly disappeared for a moment, returning with a coffee. "Just pay here. Might I ask what urged for you to come in here at seven thirty in the evening?"

Mary laughed, handing over the carefully counted exact change. "Oh, my husband's best friend over there owns the shop next door. We go out to dinner weekly with him, but it looked like we would be there for a long time, so I thought I would walk over here." Molly nodded. "I have noticed that he closes the shop for a few hours on Monday evenings. Well, I'm glad you walked over here." "Me too." Mary talked with Molly for quite a while. She found out about her cat, her love for flowers. She figured out how smart she was. She had been going to med school, was going to become a pediatrician, but couldn't get her feet off the ground after graduation. Or, rather, she was kicked out when she reached too big a financial deficit. Mary couldn't help but think of Sherlock who went to a prestigious school, but ended up starting a small business. Mary, in turn, talked about Sherlock, John, her marriage. Mary left almost an hour later, the mediocre coffee left abandoned in favor of a new friend.


	3. Chapter 3

A few weeks later was the day Lestrade did inspections for the month. "Hello, Greg!" Molly said to her landlord. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, how are you?"

"I'm good." The small talk ensued until Greg got on with inspecting the place. He saw how, as always, it was impeccably clean and decorated with cute decorations. All of her paperwork was up to date, as always. He left the store just as Mary walked in again.

"Hello Mary," Greg greeted. He was too close to Sherlock and John to not know Mary. "You'd prefer to be here than the parlor? Can't blame you."

Mary laughed, walking through the door he held open for her. "Yes."

Sherlock's inspection was always a hassle with Sherlock complaining about having to do it, his neglect for paperwork, the place was a mess. He always got it over with in the morning. Lestrade left feeling pleased with himself, watching the two women greet one another as if they were close friends.

"Mary!" Molly greeted. She had made sure to keep the shop open in case she had decided to come back. She had been, every week. Now, however, she was about fifteen minutes early.

"Hello!" Mary paused. "I was wondering if you'd like to join us tonight for dinner. Frankly, with three people, someone ends up third wheeling. Sherlock, often. Sometimes me because they're so close. It's funny when John is the odd man out. Anyway, four is a better number."

"Really?" Molly asked. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"No, not at all. It's going to be great. For starters, We're already friends. I think you and John will get along well, and Sherlock. Well, Sherlock, I have told her much more than is appropriate, but still. I think that you would have a lot in common, actually. Well, yeah. I would like for you two to meet," Mary told her almost a little abruptly.

"Wow, yeah, I would like that," Molly told her. What she had never told Mary was that she had a bit of a crush on Sherlock. She didn't need to, though. Mary knew.

"Great, well, I came early today because I thought that sharing a cab wouldn't be the best thing for the first time, so I was thinking that maybe we could go together and meet them. A little unconventional, but still," Mary told her.

"Perfect, yes."


End file.
